Not So Little
by PhoebeSnow
Summary: Molly stands up to Sherlock with unexpected results.
1. Enough

To say that Molly was unhappy was an understatement. She was beyond frustrated with the consulting detective who was currently in the pathology lab with her. Sherlock had been irritable and pushy, possibly because of the lack of cases at present.

Molly knew the way his mind worked. Whenever he didn't have anything to keep him active and busy, as he so eloquently put it, his brain _rotted_. She had originally been concerned that the stagnancy would cause him to default to drugs or smoking, but he hadn't done either and said he didn't need them.

Even if Sherlock wanted to smoke, no one would sell him anything. John had helped Molly see to that, actually.

Now, John Watson was a very lucky man because he had just gotten married. He had a wife - and what's more, a **pregnant** wife - which meant that he had to significantly dial back his time with Sherlock.

The interesting thing in all of this was Sherlock's reaction. He accepted that he wouldn't be seeing his best friend as much and was very understanding. Then, he'd begun asking Molly to assist him on his cases, which she agreed to every time.

In retrospect, it still had been a good idea because they'd gotten a bit closer as time passed. Molly's current problem with Sherlock was how he would get terribly antsy whenever he didn't have anything to work on. Unfortunately, that had been a pattern for the past three days.

In desperation, Sherlock came to Bart's an hour ago and requested a pair of eyeballs and a set of toes for one of his experiments. Molly had to get the paperwork signed and it was taking unusually long for the okay to go through. Unfortunately for her, Sherlock decided to stay around at the hospital and wait until he received permission.

It had been a bad idea, but for the past twenty minutes, Molly had tried to chat with Sherlock and distract him for the time being. So far, she'd done a miserable job. The only time he responded to her was when she offered to bring him coffee from the canteen - "Thank you, Molly" wasv the only thing he'd said while barely looking at her.

Did he think she was his flunky? Sometimes the man didn't have the slightest idea about tact or gratitude and Molly found her own disposition souring the longer Sherlock was at Bart's.

In a desperate bid to change the atmosphere between them, she started talking. "So we've gotten a new anaesthesiologist last week. Her name is Ruth and she's pretty nice. A big fan of yours, and she said that she's always on your website and John's blog. I suppose you're pleased that his blog has gotten quite a large following. I know I would be in your position."

Sherlock's fingers continued to move on the touch screen on his mobile and he rolled his eyes, replying in a disinterested voice, "Fascinating. How lucky for you to meet someone who shares the same interests as you, Molly. I'm sure you'd eagerly run my fan club for the staff at Bart's, but it's unnecessary since you're already a member of the _I Heart Sherlock_ group online."

Molly paled. She knew what was coming next.

"The bracelet on your wrist is a couple of years old. I know because you don't wear jewellery often, yet, you consistently wear this bracelet, and so much in fact, that it's a bit worn and the colours are faded. If that wasn't telling enough, the tiny, homemade and definitely not store bought 221B symbol that's attached to the bracelet is proof that it comes from a place where the people make and distribute their own items. Anyway, you can't bear awkward silences, and since we both know you're terrible when it comes to small talk, please stop with the worthless drivel."

That was the final straw. Molly didn't care if she had feelings Sherlock or not. It was humiliating to be treated like this and the cold deduction he just made reminded her of that awful Christmas party. It had been a long time since she'd seen that careless side of Sherlock and it had just reared its ugly head again.

Her nose flared and she stepped towards him until they were separated by mere inches. "Well, I'd rather be awful at making small talk than tearing down people's spirits."

His fingers stilled and he looked down at her in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm sick and tired of you making fun of me. It's a miracle that I don't have a complex because of the verbal abuse I've been subjected to through that mouth of yours. And here, I thought we were making progress." She shook her head angrily. "You can find someone else to bring you body parts and help you with cases. I'm done!"

Molly hated how her eyes began to fill up with tears as she ran from the room. A dam had broken inside of her and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Her feet took her out of the pathology lab and far away from Sherlock's calls. The pounding of Molly's heart echoed in her ears and when she reached her flat, she couldn't even remember how she got there. All she knew was that she couldn't work with Sherlock anymore. It hurt too much.


	2. Changes

_Molly gets a makeover._

* * *

Molly resented the fact that Sherlock's presence had taken up so much space in her life. Now that she was actively avoiding him, she felt a bit alone. But she wasn't going to admit that her life was missing something because he didn't deserve that much credit. She had a life before him, so she could have one _after_ him, too.

She sat on her sofa, watching crap telly with Toby in her lap. The show that was currently playing was one of those silly, predictable ones. The audience was screaming for the host to reveal some rather sensitive information about his guest and he was teasing them by prolonging the news.

It was a stupid show and Molly wasn't really paying attention. Her mind was still on her previous outburst towards Sherlock. She didn't feel bad about it because he'd had it coming. There was only so much hurt she could take from him and three days ago, she had finally reached her limit.

Sherlock tried calling her a few times, texted her as well, but she refused to pick up the phone. Her pain was still raw and she knew that it would be a bad idea to accept any calls from tge detective just yet. Eventually she'd allow him back into her life, but she couldn't see how they'd be anything but casual acquaintances.

The petite brunette sighed and blew at a stray piece of hair away from her head. "I guess I need to get my hair trimmed again. It's gotten pretty long. I just might get some new clothes, too. Some of my old stuff needs to be replaced and there should be good sales going on now."

Hopefully, it'd help her get her mind off Sherlock...

* * *

Hours later, Molly came back to her flat feeling refreshed and, at the risk of sounding cliche, like a new woman. Shopping had turned out to be a very good idea after all and so had her haircut.

Once she set her purchases down on the table in the living room, Molly went into her bedroom and stood in front of the full length mirror. Her hair had been cut quite short and was slightly below chin length and she even sported a fringe.

The last time she had a fringe was back in primary school and it made her look like a baby. But _this_ fringe made her look sexy and a bit sophisticated. The light brown highlights made her eyes pop and did wonders for her complexion as well. Molly kept a lock of of her hair for safekeeping and she held it in her hand.

In the new clothes she wore - a slim fitting pink colored jumper, soft brown trousers with a criss cross pattern on the sides of the thighs, black ankle boots - she felt more confident. Normally, Molly wasn't the type to do something as drastic as a makeover because she had always thought that such things were frivolous. But after her last encounter with Sherlock, she'd done some intensive evaluating and decided that she was tired of being a put upon for him.

The old Molly Hooper was gone and in her place was a woman who was a bit more assertive. She would still wear some of her older clothes because she wasn't ashamed of them, but she was determined not to let anything get to her now. That confidence would be spoken through her future choice of clothing too, which was another reason why she decided to buy new ones.

All of the hurtful things Sherlock had said to her over the years danced around in her brain. The worst had been at that Christmas party, of course. Molly remembered the callous way Sherlock deduced her, mentioning her lack of lips and breasts. It still stung after his apology. That had been very surprising, too.

 _Sherlock Holmes apologizing._

The sound of his voice and the regret in his eyes in that moment told her that he meant what he said after he kissed her. Molly sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Well, that was all in the past and it didn't matter now. Sherlock was going to be sorry the next time he saw her. She was a different woman and the next time he saw her, he'd be shocked.

In retrospect, shopping hadn't gotten Sherlock out of her mind for very long, but one thing was certain. It was definitely going to take a **lot** more than a simple apology for him to get back in her good graces.


	3. Advice

_Molly and Mary talk about Sherlock._

* * *

Molly had just finished folding her laundry and putting everything up in her wardrobe when her mobile chimed. A smile appeared on her face when she saw who the text was from.

 **Are you busy? -MW**

 **No, I'm off today. Do you want me to come over for tea? -MH**

 **Yeah. I think you and I should catch up. It's been a while. -MW**

 **Okay. I'll be there within the hour. -MH**

In twenty minutes, Molly was at the Watson's flat and knocked on the door. When Mary opened it and saw an entirely different-looking Molly than the one she'd last seen, with her stylish new haircut - fringe! - and her new clothes, she stared for a moment.

After a long pause, her mouth finally started working again and she said, "This is new."

"Yeah. I decided to make a change. Do you like it?"

"Like it? If I weren't married, pregnant and my feet didn't hurt, I'd be all over you."

Molly laughed and came inside. "That's a high compliment."

She moved to sit down in the living room where both women talked shop about Molly's work and Mary's pregnancy. It was a very pleasant visit, but Molly had the feeling that Sherlock was going to be mentioned in their discussion at some point.

"So you don't know about Sherlock, I take it?" Mary asked as she nibbled on a biscuit.

And there it was.

Molly paused briefly when Mary mentioned his name and resumed stirring her tea. "Know what?"

"That answers my question. He's taken some important job from Mycroft. It's a very top secret mission, and dangerous, too."

"Well, I'm sure Sherlock can take care of himself," Molly said nonchalantly, even though there was a tiny lump in her throat at the thought of him being in danger. She may have cut him off and was currently angry at him, but her concern couldn't be repressed.

"Oh, we don't doubt that, but John and I are worried about him. He looked really glum before he left." Mary gave Molly a knowing look.

"Well, if he feels glum, it's his own damn fault." Molly took a sip of her tea and opened her mouth to add more, but Mary beat her to it.

"I agree. I know that Sherlock was particularly antsy and restless because of a lack of cases and with John not being around as much, he can't be as diverted. It's unfortunate, what happened between the two of you."

Molly bit her lip and stared down at her cup. Mary had always been understanding when it came to Sherlock. In hindsight, it was a good thing because Molly really didn't need Mary to be angry at the man. She needed someone with a clear head as her own was a bit...compromised by her emotions.

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "I know that he was stressed and jittery because he didn't had anything to put his mind to, but honestly, I'm tired of being the person he takes it out on."

"I know how you feel. Sherlock can be a royal pain in the arse and I agree that you should keep your distance for a while, but sooner or later, you _will_ have to talk to him. It's not healthy when two friends have something strained between them."

"That's the thing, I don't see Sherlock as just a friend! I...I love him, but he doesn't want to accept it. He's always been against emotion and sentiment, but I know that he is not a robot. I've seen evidence of his feelings for all of us at some point and I can't pretend like he's indifferent."

Mary patted Molly's hand. "Of course he isn't. We all know that he cares and you're included in that. He came here yesterday, before he was sent on his mission. Wanted to let us know that he'd be gone for a while."

"Oh." Molly bit into a biscuit and tried to act blasé. "So you and John had a touching farewell with Sherlock, then?"

"Not exactly. He told us that it would be a difficult mission, but he assured that he'd have it finished within a week's time. So cocky." She rolled her eyes. "He hadn't been here for five minutes before he asked me how you were."

"Did he? And what'd you tell him?"

"Just that you had gone through a few changes and he needed to man up and apologize to you."

Molly laughed, but there was no humor in her voice. "Sherlock? _Apologize?_ I don't think so. It was a miracle that he apologized to me at that awful Christmas party years ago, but now? I doubt it."

"Mm, you should never, never doubt what nobody is sure about."

"...did you just quote Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory?"

"Yes."

"Speaking of chocolate, I'm craving for some myself."

Mary's eyes lit up. "And I have a dozen chocolate donuts in the kitchen."

Both women smiled like they had just won the lottery. "Then, what are we waiting for?"


	4. Guess Who's Back?

_Sherlock is finally home and ready to talk to Molly. Only, he's drunk._

* * *

 **One month later**

John and Mary were in the living room of their flat watching a film together when John's phone chimed. "Hold on. Could you pause that, Mary? It might be something important."

Taking the mobile in his hand, John pressed the power button. When he realised who had just texted him, his face lit up. "It's Sherlock."

"What?" Mary popped a few M&Ms in her mouth.

"He's back from his mission." The smile that had appeared on John's face gradually dimmed as his friend sent him another text.

Mary was good at reading her husband's facial expressions and she could tell that something he had just read disturbed him greatly. "What's wrong?"

John held up a finger to his wife, signaling for her to wait a moment while he quickly typed out a message back to Sherlock. Then he waited for a response. In a few minutes, another text appeared on the screen and John read it, squinting his eyes.

Once he finished reading, he frowned and sent off a fast text, his fingers hitting the screen aggressively and Mary began to worry. Again, there was a pause and John read the next message Sherlock sent him. This time, he grunted. "He's an idiot."

If her husband was calling Sherlock a name, something he said must have been really bad. Mary waved her hands in the air to get John's attention. "Why is Sherlock an idiot?"

"That git just texted me that he's come from the airport and is on his way to Molly's flat so he can win her back. Whatever that means."

"Win her back?"

"Yes! He thinks that he can just walk into her flat and she's going to throw herself into his arms and forgive him for being an arse! And if that weren't bad enough, he's gotten himself drunk, too."

"Oh. Well, that's not good."

John laughed mirthlessly. "No shit. Molly will kill him, but maybe if I can beat him there, I can stop him before he does any more damage."

Mary saw that John was ready to turn and go out the door, but she grabbed him by the arm and tugged. "Stop. Maybe this is a good thing."

"A good thing?"

"Yeah. Besides, you wouldn't be able to change his mind once it's already made up. Just let him go to Molly's and try to fix this mess. Knowing how light weighted Sherlock is, he'll probably pass out after he knocks on the door."

"You might be right about that. His texts were hard to read."

Mary smiled widely and tapped her fingers on her chin. "Yes, this is perfect."

"I have no idea what's going on in your head, Mary, but are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Don't worry. This is just what Sherlock needs. He'll go to Molly's and she'll let him stay the night because he's drunk. Then they'll talk in the morning."

"Hungover Sherlock isn't the best person to have a conversation with."

"Well, he probably wouldn't go over there if he were sober, right? However, since he's drunk, his inhibitions are lowered, which just gives him more incentive to be foolish."

"Yet, you're thrilled by it."

"Of course I am, and you would be, too if you stopped panicking. Everything will turn out fine, John. _Trust me_."

"And how do you know that Molly won't throw him out on his arse?"

"Because she still loves him."

* * *

Molly sat on her couch quite comfortably as she read one of her favourite books, Anne of Green Gables, when there was a loud pounding at the door. Toby jumped out of her lap and hissed at the sound and Molly frowned, wondering who in the world was knocking at her flat half past eleven.

"Open the door, Molly! It's me!"

Hearing that familiar voice made her scowl. Sherlock. Of course he would be the one to show up late at night and completely unannounced. "Sherlock, go away."

"Molly, please!"

No. He was **not** going to do this to her. The bastard had left for an entire month without so much as a goodbye or any kind of warning. She had no idea that he'd left and had only found out from Mary hours after he was no longer in the country! Needless to say, Molly wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

She looked down at her book and continued where she left off, determined not to answer Sherlock and give in to his begging.

There was silence for a moment, then more knocks at the door. This time, they were slower and off beat. "Molly! I'm on my knees!" A thud that sounded like his body or maybe just his head hitting the door reached her ears, followed by a succession of loud thumps.

Molly furrowed her brow and got off the couch, heading for the door. Once she unlocked it, she saw Sherlock lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of her steps. "Oh, my God." She rushed down to him and touched his arm. "Sherlock? Wake up. It's chilly out here and I'm not going to carry your heavy carcass up to my flat."

The man groaned and slowly, his head raised up so he could look at her. "Oww. That hurt."

"Of course it did, you git. You fell down the bloody stairs." She sighed once the smell of alcohol hit her nostrils and grimaced at the cut on his forehead. "Tsk, drunk and bleeding. You really know how to surprise a girl, don't you?" With a tug, Molly managed to get Sherlock on his feet and they slowly made their ascent up the stairs and into her flat.

Molly led him to the sofa and she went to the kitchen cabinet above the stove and pulled out a first aid kit. When she had the proper bandages, gauze and rubbing alcohol in her hands, she made her way back to the sofa and took care of the cut on Sherlock's head.

"You really have some nerve coming here after that stunt you pulled. Count yourself lucky that I'm generous enough not to leave you on the steps."

His eyes were sleepy, but he seemed to be struggling to tell her something. "You're a good person, Molly and your hair is so strange." He blew at her fringe which unfortunately also included some spit from his mouth.

Molly scowled and wiped the spit off with her sleeve. "Well, I could care less what you think."

 _Liar.  
_

"I doubt that." He grinned at her and she rubbed his cut with more force than necessary. "Ow! Molly, that hurt."

"Life is pain, Sherlock," she quipped.

Molly finished cleaning him up and sighed because she still had an overwhelming desire to hit Sherlock over the head with something heavy. However, she really didn't want to bandage any more injuries tonight, so she resisted the impulse.

Sherlock's eyes were droopy as he tried to sit up, but ended up slumping down on the sofa. "We need to talk."

Molly shook her head and stood up. "No, Sherlock. I am not going to talk to you when you're drunk. You probably wouldn't even remember what you're saying."

"I have a good memory."

"I don't care. We're not doing this tonight. Whatever you want to talk to me about can wait until tomorrow. I'll help you to my guest room." She tugged on his hand and placed her arm around his back to steady him.

As they made their way into the guest room, Sherlock frowned. "This isn't your room."

"I just said you were going to be in my guest room. After what you pulled the last time I saw you, you really think you're gonna sleep in my bed?"

"Well, I always do."

"Unbelievable." Molly unceremoniously dropped Sherlock on the bed - he groaned, but she ignored it - and went to retrieve a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t shirt for him. When she reentered the room, Sherlock was trying to take off his pants, but they were stuck around his shoes.

Sighing, she aided him in undressing, moving as swiftly as possible. Once his sleep clothes were on, she got him in the bed and under the covers. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

An urge to run her fingers through Sherlock's curls tugged at Molly, but she resisted. She still cared, of course, but it'd be better to keep her distance and refrain from any acts of intimacy towards him. At least until they talked in the morning.


	5. Her Perfect Match

_Molly and Sherlock bury the hatchet._

* * *

Sherlock's still-sleepy eyes took in Molly's form, noticing how fashionable she looked and the way her clothes suited her figure. Suddenly, he felt like he was in the desert and in need of fresh water. "Mary...didn't exaggerate when she said that you made a few changes."

"No, she didn't. Would you like some tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please. I still need to wake up."

"Clearly," she quipped and filled a mug with the hot beverage. She paused when his fingers brushed against her fringe and he made a small "Hm" sound. When he drew back, Molly patiently waited for Sherlock to stir in his sugar and take a few sips of the coffee. No doubt his head was pounding from the liquor he drank last night. And speaking of liquor...

"Just how much alcohol did you have?"

"Mm, too much." He glanced at her hair again with a look that made her insides twist. "How long did it take you to get a makeover? Before or after I left the country?"

She frowned and crossed her arms against her upper torso. "Sherlock, if you're going to be an idiot, I will toss you out on your arse. Don't test me."

A worried look appeared on his face and he set the mug back down on the table. "No, I promise you that my question was genuine. I wasn't trying to mock you."

"It was a couple of days after I told you to work with another pathologist." Molly felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment as she recalled the way she'd ran from him that day. Perhaps it had been a touch melodramatic, but what he said to her had really hurt.

"I decided it was time for a change and I needed to go shopping anyway. It was very therapeutic."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied softly.

"But it still didn't help the underlying problem. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "Why did you have to be so insensitive? I thought...maybe we were getting closer."

"We have." Sherlock reached for her hand, but she moved it away.

"Well, it doesn't feel like it! When you say hurtful things like that, teasing me about being a part of your 'fan club', it makes me think that you consider my feelings for you to be nothing more than a joke! It's like you don't take me seriously."

"...I know." Sherlock felt ashamed for deducing Molly that day at Bart's and it crushed him to see the burgeoning tears welling up in her eyes when he last saw her. He'd done a better job of holding his tongue when it came to Molly's affection for him, but this time, he backslid.

"I'm sorry for what I said, but I know that isn't enough for you. If you never want to see me again, I understand."

Molly shook her head. His apology was sincere and resigned and her lips trembled hearing it. "Sherlock, I was angry at you that day in the lab, but it's been a month now. I could never just cut you out of my life. How would I get along without you? I'll have you in any way I can. We've been through a lot of rough patches, but have _always_ gotten past them..."

They remembered how Eurus had put them through that intense vivisection two years ago. After that awful day, Sherlock and Molly still managed to be good friends, but something held them back from taking another step to turn their relationship into something deeper.

Maybe that was the reason why Molly felt Sherlock's jibe at her stung. It was just a way of reminding her that they would never have a more meaningful relationship and that was terribly sobering.

"You're wrong."

Molly looked up in surprise as Sherlock watched her with an intense stare.

"What do you mean?"

"I never thought that you and I would be nothing more than just friends. I was just...scared."

Scared? Sherlock Holmes? They had made such lovely progress and the next thing Molly knew, he was reverting to the same man he was when they first met. That made absolutely no sense, especially after everything they'd gone through together. Sherlock himself had even told Molly that she was the only woman besides Mary whom he considered to be his equal and was grateful for her presence in his life. If that was true, then why did he begin to withdraw? Sure, he said he was scared, but that didn't make sense.

That's when the light came on and suddenly, Molly understood why he'd been increasingly cold to her even before he left the continent for a MI6 mission.

"Sherlock, are you saying that you've been pushing me away on **purpose**?"

The detective smiled, but it looked more like a pained grimace instead. "You hit the nail on the head."

"Wha-why not tell me what you were thinking all that time? Then you never would have had to go to another country to escape your feelings!"

"You don't get it, Molly. I'm not a good man. I've done terrible things..." He lowered his gaze to the floor as the following words came out so softly she could barely hear them. "You need someone whose hands aren't covered in blood, someone who's pure and untainted."

Molly shook her head in disbelief and got down on her knees in front of Sherlock, holding his chin up to meet his gaze with her own. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips and when he tried to pull back, she tightened her hold on him.

When he stopped fighting it, she let go of him and placed her hand on his heart. "Sherlock, I have a right to decide who I love and who I want in my life. I _chose_ you. If you feel like you don't deserve me, fine, but don't torture us both to try staying away. Don't you know that there are plenty of couples who deserve each other and they still manage to make a relationship work?"

She brushed her knuckles against his cheek. "If we lived our lives by what we should or should not deserve, we'd all be miserable every day and have no peace. You're not perfect, but neither am I. And maybe we aren't the most obvious match, but we compliment each other. Being with you makes me happy and I know for a fact that you feel the same. Why fight this when we both know it's right?"

He held his forehead to hers. Molly's words impacted him deeply and he couldn't pretend to be indifferent this time. His breath was shaky, but he still spoke the words that they both needed to hear. "I tried to for a long time...but I can't. I fell in love with you the day we met, and I love you, still."

Molly felt happy tears slip out of her eyes and she hugged him. "I love you too, Sherlock. You're the only man who could ever have my heart."

Sherlock pressed his lips to Molly's cheek and his hands wrapped around her, caressing her in a warm embrace. "Then I'll do my best to treasure it."


End file.
